


sometimes it's too easy

by kanjogirl



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: F/M, Heavy Petting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 17:57:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanjogirl/pseuds/kanjogirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mako distracts Raleigh about 100% the time without meaning to.  But when she does...</p>
            </blockquote>





	sometimes it's too easy

**Author's Note:**

> Let's just agree Raleigh is turned on by anything having to do with Mako.

  
They’re sitting down behind a table, attempting the life of post war and being celebrities.  Which is actually better for Mako; fame has always looked better on her, despite how it was claimed and thrown upon her.  In his youth, he had clawed for it, happily devoured what was given as long as he and Yancy were immortal.  Though now, he tries handling it with poise to reach Mako’s level. She’s used to it—all the attention.  He’s not.  
  
  
They sit side by side, some American representative and their secretary across from them.  They’re discussing something about renewing the PPDC ties with America and Raleigh’s feeling more like the world wants him to become a businessman.  But as great as he is with the whole adapting thing, Raleigh will always be in the trenches before he’s the one calling the shots over in Washington.  
  
  
The representative is saying something about relations with China when Raleigh feels a hand slide over his knee.  Suddenly he’s a bit frigid and chewing on the pasta in his mouth stops.  He knows that hand so very well, nearly as well as she knows it herself.  And he knows exactly the intention beneath her fingertips as she drags her palm over his thigh ever so slowly.    
  
  
He just gives a curt nod when they continue talking.  In the corner of his eye, Mako’s picking up some tempora and popping it in her mouth expertly.  She only pauses, spying him stealing a glance at her.  Her lips curve upwards but her eyes are upon the representative, pretending the smile is directed at him instead of Raleigh.  She’s rather sly like that.  
  
  
Though the hand slides further up, ratcheting up desire in his gut and he stabs at some chicken alfredo rather roughly with an absentminded nod to whatever they’re saying.  He stopped listening about twenty minutes ago but this is kinda taking it to another level.    
  
  
Through the dress pants, her fingers find the steadily growing bulge and he grits his teeth.   There’s heat straining his balls and he opens his legs to get more comfortable.  He shoots her a look of warning that goes completely ignored besides the way the tips of her fingers draw across his clothed tip.  
  
  
By now, Raleigh knows he’s flushed, cheeks dusted with pink and he desperately tries not to cough or breathe out to draw any sort of attention.  But, oh god, he needs  _some_  control because then she’s palming him and he nearly juts his hips forward for more pressure.    
  
  
“—Excuse me,” Raleigh grabs for the cloth napkin in an attempt to casually cover up his erection, holding it to his groin before almost running off to the restaurant’s restroom.    
  
  
Thankfully, he’s alone when he bursts through the men’s restroom, but then again, they’re basically the only ones there at this point.  The American has talked for over a damn hour.  And then Mako does  _that._   He places his hands on the counter, leans forward, closes his eyes tightly and counts to ten.  And then counts again, and again, and again.    
  
  
He’s twelfth round of counting when the door opens.  He clears his throat, straightening up and turns to give a brief nod to whoever just came in but then Mako’s standing there with a smirk, as if to say she won something.  Raleigh’s eyes sweep over her with obvious intentions, the reaming desire not helping the tightness of his pants.  
  
  
He points a finger at her, “ _You_ …are sneaky.  What?  They decided to leave?”  
  
  
”I can be negotiable, you know,” Mako responds, a lazy stride forward and two clicks of her heels on the tile floor.  She cants her head, that smirk still there and he wants to press his mouth to hers, taste the conceit and triumph there.  ”I blamed your restlessness. They’re hailing a cab now.”  
  
  
All he needed to hear.  
  
  
He’s backing her into the wall then, turning the switch of the lock and her right leg hooks around his left, bringing his hips against hers.  His hardness against her hip and there’s a knowing look in her eye.  He’s about to tell her he blames that mostly on her but her hand is slipping beneath his dress shirt, untucking it roughly to draw her fingers over his skin, moving up his torso and he sucks in a ragged breath.  
  
  
Within a moment, he’s hiking her up, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist.  A hand between them, he traces his fingers under her dress, over the panties and feels great satisfaction in the fact she’s moist. Her nose bumps against his and he raises his eyes to hers just as he drags a thumb across her covered clit.  
  
  
A harsh intake of breath on her part, nails scrape across his skin, wanton, deliberate, leaving desperate ache within him for her.  He keens, a sound smothered into the crook of her neck.  She tenses, grinds her hips against his own and gasps when he presses his thumb over her heat and his cock twitches.    
  
  
“You’re killing me,” he mumbles into her neck, leaving a wet kiss where he spoke.    
  
  
Her fingers dip lower, beneath his pants and he can practically hear victorious twang to her voice as she says, “Tell me that after,  _Mr. Becket._ " 


End file.
